


Our Gentle Sin

by ourloveisgod



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 04:01:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9474836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ourloveisgod/pseuds/ourloveisgod
Summary: They were sinners, plain and simple, but at least they sinned together.





	1. Sloth

“I’m never gettin’ up again for the rest of my entire life,” Rhett said. At his side, still dripping from the icy water of the river, Link laughed. 

“Are too,” he said. 

“Nuh-uh. This is my home now. On this rock, in this river, right here.” 

Link had to agree it was nice, lying on his back on a sun-warmed rock in the middle of the Cape Fear River. But they had things to do today: Link had to study, Rhett had a basketball game, and they couldn’t lie here forever even if Link agreed with his best friend and decided to give living here a try. Besides, it wasn’t quite spring, and as the sun dipped low on the horizon, the temperature dipped with it. Link began to shiver in the February breeze, goose bumps rising up on his bare chest and arms. Before he could tell Rhett it was time to go before they froze to death, Rhett spoke. 

“We don’t have to go back to the real world if we don’t wanna,” he said. And it made no sense at all, the quiet claim, and Link chose to ignore it. He lolled on the warm stone, listening to the sweet sounds of the river racing around them. Sure, it had been a good day. Sure, Link would love to put off his homework and the essay he had due on Monday. But Rhett was wrong. There was going to be no staying here, no staying put until the end of time, and certainly no hiding away as if the world beyond the river didn’t matter. 

Rhett never cared whether Link answered him or not. He kept going despite Link’s silence. “Sometimes,” he said, the river carrying much of the sound of his voice away, “when I’m doin’ something like this with you, something easy…I wonder what it would be like to do nothing but this forever.” He was being crazy, speaking nonsense like he tended to do, and Link indulged him by keeping quiet. “I just think, in these moments, that I wouldn’t rather be doin’ anything else besides this. I would be happy to lie here next to you until I died.”

Link rolled over to his stomach, skinning his elbows as he propped himself up to look at Rhett. The other boy had his eyes closed, his arms behind his head, and a smile on his face. “Earth to Rhett,” Link said. “Stop bein’ so weird. I’m cold, man. Whaddya say we head back? You can be weird as you want once we’re on our way home.” 

Rhett cracked one eye open. “’M not movin’,” he said, and his eye closed again. “Lie back down. We have all the time in the world.” 

“Actually, you probably shoulda already been back at school for the game by now,” Link replied. He shook his wet hair out and ran his hands through it in hopes of drying it. Cold river water splashed Rhett’s face and made him wince. 

“Watch where you’re sprayin’!” Rhett said. He scrubbed one hand down his face to collect the water and he flicked his wrist to spray it right back at Link. 

“Hey!” Link cried. In reply, Rhett chuckled, the same deep chuckle Link had appreciated all his life. So, instead of getting angry, he let it go. He took a long look at Rhett, who seemed perfectly content to miss one of the last home games of the season, and he shrugged. If Rhett wanted to stay here forever, Link could give him that. Why not? Forever wouldn’t amount to much if they froze solid out here on the rock. It wouldn’t take long for forever to end in icicles and hypothermia. Sure. For Rhett? Link would take all of that on. 

He flopped back onto the rock, resting his head on his arms, and Rhett gave a quiet whoop of appreciation. 

“Decided to be lazy with me for a while longer?” Rhett asked. That one eye cracked open again as Rhett turned his head to look at Link, their faces close together as they lounged. 

“There’s just no fighting you,” Link replied. 

“True.” 

Link tried to lie still, to enjoy the warm sun on his cold skin, but he grew antsy as the minutes slipped by. Water dripped into the small of his back and down his thighs, the shorts he wore into the river still sopping wet. The cold was getting to him like long and icy fingers crawling across his wet skin. His teeth began to chatter before once again, Rhett opened one eye. 

“Cold?” he asked. 

“Freezing.” 

Rhett hesitated for a moment, looking at Link with his one half-lidded eye. And then he said, “C’mere.” It was a simple enough command, given with a low voice and one arm offered up to rest under. But Link paused. “Wassa matter?” Rhett asked. “’S’not like I’m gonna make you any colder.” He graced Link with a glimpse of both eyes as he opened them wide. 

“No, but…” Link gnawed at his lip to give himself time to conjure up an excuse. Because in every idle moment, in every lazy day spent at one another’s side, Link had been thinking. And he had been thinking and thinking and thinking, lost in his own head, scared out of his mind of all the things that came to it. He wanted to touch Rhett, to really touch him, to feel the other boy’s soft skin. And there was sin in that, deadly sin, sin that would send him straight to Hell. There were things he thought about late at night while Rhett slept on his bedroom floor; there was always an invitation on his lips, an urge to lean over the edge of the bed and whisper, “Wanna come up here with me?” He never asked, not once, and it was a silly thing to think about, anyway. What in the world would Rhett want with him when he could have any girl he wanted? No, as much as Link wanted, twice as badly as he wanted Rhett, he wanted to keep Rhett in his life. No stupid longings were worth losing Rhett’s friendship. Link would…

He would rather die than lose Rhett. 

“But what?” Rhett asked. And Link shook his head. 

“But nothin’,” he said. 

Rhett cocked one eyebrow up, gave Link a languid once-over, and gave his own head a little shake. “Then come _here_ and lemme warm you up.” 

Despite the alarm bells ringing in his head, despite ten long years of holding back, Link obeyed. He shimmied across the rock on his sore elbows and closed the space between himself and Rhett. When he dropped his head to Rhett’s chest, right over his heart, Rhett hummed. 

“There ya go,” he said. He curled his arm around Link’s shoulders and urged him closer. Rhett’s heart was racing, but the speed of his thrumming pulse had nothing on Link’s. As Link stretched out his arm and draped it across Rhett’s middle, he took in a deep and shuddery breath. “See?” Rhett said. “Toldja I could warm you up.” And he could; his skin was warm from the sun and the arm he had around Link had already slowed his shivering. With nothing more to say, Rhett danced idle fingertips along Link’s bicep. The deliberate touch felt nice enough that it gave Link the courage to gift Rhett one of his own. He nuzzled into the crook of Rhett’s neck and pressed his cold nose against his throat. Rhett froze in his gentle tracing of Link’s shoulder, and Link stiffened, worried he might have done too much. Breathless, Link waited, and after a beat, Rhett made another soft sound of contentment and didn’t say a word. Link rested, curled up against his best friend’s bare chest, with a thousand questions on his lips. But unbelievably, after a quiet minute Link spent desperately gathering his thoughts, Rhett’s breathing evened out and the motion of his fingers slowed and stopped. 

It was a pleasant moment Link didn’t know what to do with. 

Beyond Rhett’s rising and falling chest, the river rolled. And time was not on their side. They had to move; they had to get up, get off the rock, clamber into the water, and swim back to shore. They had to collect their T-shirts and shoes, previously discarded on the riverbank, and they had to trek back through the woods to Rhett’s car. They had to make it home, make it to the game, make it to a place where things like cuddling up together simply weren’t a possibility. That was where they were safe, but that was not where Link wanted to be. 

He wanted to be right here, tucked safely under Rhett’s arm, warm even as the sun set around them. When he whispered Rhett’s name and got nothing in reply, that settled it in his mind. 

He closed his eyes and took hold of the moment passed into his hands. 

There were things he should worry about, like who was going to laugh embarrassedly first when Rhett woke up to find their bodies still pressed together. But Link didn’t want to think about that. Not now. Instead, he moved in closer, his lips at Rhett’s throat, and enjoyed the long and dreamy moments of being idle.


	2. Envy

The girl who took Link by the hand and yanked him down the hall was gorgeous. She was a knockout, her hair long and silky and dark and her lips plump and rosy. Rhett had watched her staring at Link from across the room the entire first hour after they arrived at the house party. Link, like he always was, had been completely oblivious to her. He _never_ got the hint from girls; Rhett _always_ had to jab an elbow into his ribs and tell him point blank that he was being flirted with. He was an idiot, he really was. It was his own self-doubt that made him so unaware. It killed Rhett to know that Link truly had no idea that he was funny, that he was witty, that he was smart, that he was good looking…

Rhett shook his head, took a swig from the beer in his hand, and watched the empty hallway down which Link and the girl had disappeared. Leave it to Link to get a girl despite all his best efforts. Rhett, on the other hand, sat down hard on the sofa in a stranger’s living room and prepared himself for a long night spent waiting for Link. He could probably get up and leave him here. Link would find his own way back to their dorm room without Rhett. But something burning deep in Rhett’s stomach held him right where he was. It wasn’t concern for Link’s well-being; he was in his element, under the adoring eye of a pretty girl. And it wasn’t the desire to be a good friend, either. Link didn’t need a babysitter and Rhett didn’t need to act as one. 

It was something else. 

It was jealousy. 

Rhett seethed with it alone on the sofa, a warm beer in his hand and his heart burning somewhere in his throat. Up until tonight, he had been doing well. He had been avoiding touching Link, he had been avoiding eye contact, and he had been able to keep Link’s name off his lips as he jerked off in the shower. He had been making up excuses to leave every time Link came back to their room. For weeks, he had been running. Because he felt something, something that made his stomach hurt, and it only got worse with every second Rhett spent thinking of Link’s hands on him. 

He had fought it desperately, for weeks, for months…hell, for _years_. He was not about to lose it because a girl had what he wanted. No, he was going to do what he always did. He was going to bite his tongue and bite his cheek and bite his fingernails until every gnawed on bit of him began to bleed. And he wasn’t going to say a thing. Not now, not tonight, not as long as he lived. No amount of jealousy was worth losing Link over. Because losing Link was the only possible outcome of grabbing him by his stupid bony shoulders, looking into his stupid, clueless face, and telling Link he wanted him. 

Maybe it was the forced proximity. Maybe it was the smell of Link’s skin, the same familiar scent he had carried all his life. Maybe it was the familiarity, then, and maybe it was that simple. But Link had seeped into Rhett’s bones, and it didn’t much matter how. He was there. He had his hand wrapped around Rhett’s stupid, treacherous heart, and it was Rhett who paid for it. 

“Where’s Link?” 

Rhett looked up to find his and Link’s roommate standing before him, swaying a bit, a plastic cup and a beer in his hands. Gregg passed the beer to Rhett and smiled conspiratorially, like Link’s location was some big secret Rhett was going to share with him. 

“Dunno,” Rhett lied. He didn’t want to talk to about it. He didn’t want to tell Gregg there was a girl, a gorgeous, leggy, dark-haired girl. And he definitely didn’t want to talk about why the simple fact that Link was with her and not him had him so damn bothered. 

“Ah,” Gregg said, throwing himself onto the sofa at Rhett’s side. “’Cause I coulda sworn I saw him down the hall with some girl’s hand practically down his pants.” Rhett choked on the beer Gregg had handed him and gave himself away. Gregg’s grin turned lecherous as he saw straight through Rhett’s phony nonchalance. “So you saw that too, then?” he asked. 

Bleakly, Rhett nodded. 

“Ah, it’s nothin’,” Gregg assured him. “He’s not her type. She’ll figure that out soon. And then you’ll have your boy back.” He drained the rest of whatever was in his cup in one big gulp and shrugged in Rhett’s direction. “Or,” he said, playing with the rim of his cup, “you could go _get_ your boy.” 

Rhett thought about it for a second: he could storm down the hall, take Link by the hand, drag him upstairs, lay into Link for leaving him alone, and then he could…

He shook his head, unwilling to let his mind go that far. That was forbidden territory; that was no man’s land. That was untouchable, wrong, vile, and _wrong_. Rhett was not going to imagine what he would do to Link if he had him, if he had Link’s body under his hands…

“Not my boy,” Rhett said, and the moment of weakness was over. Sure, Rhett was still weak at the knees at the thoughts he almost let himself sink into. But he was fine. He wasn’t going to break, especially not tonight. He had put too much work into pretending, into focusing, into knowing none of the things he wanted were ever going to be real. He wasn’t going to risk losing Link, the life they built together, the best thing the both of them have ever had. Not now, and not _ever_ , and especially not over some girl at some party on some night. 

He wasn’t. 

But Gregg was talking and Rhett was tipsy and he had to concentrate hard to hear what Gregg was saying over the sounds of the stupid party. “He is your boy,” Gregg said. “Whether you like it or not, man. Maybe not…I dunno, maybe not in the way that you want, but he’s still your boy. He’s always gonna be your boy. So I say…the way I see it…go get him. What’s he gonna do? Tell you no? Maybe. But you go get him, and you…you look him in the eye, and you tell him _you’re my boy_. Can ya do that for me, Rhett? I know you can. What the hell do ya think he’s gonna do after that, huh?”

“Punch me,” Rhett replied. Gregg was far drunker than Rhett initially thought and if Rhett didn’t get away from him, he was going to lose his mind. But the moment Rhett stood up, Gregg grabbed him by the sleeve and yanked him back down. 

“Yes or no, Rhett,” Gregg said. The sincerity and solemnity alcohol gave him almost made Rhett laugh; any other subject matter and he would already be on his ass, telling Gregg to shut the hell up about the nonsense he was spitting. “Do you wish it was you?” 

Rhett looked down the hall where Link had disappeared. He let his eyes slip closed and he imagined it was his hand down Link’s pants, his mouth leaving marks on Link’s throat. It burned him, the thoughts he had never let himself think, but God, did he think them now. And God had everything and nothing to do with this moment but Rhett wasn’t about to share it with anybody. He wanted so badly it stung, water in the corners of Rhett’s eyes as he imagined every godawful, stupid thing he wasn’t allowed to have. 

Gregg was waiting for a reply and Rhett was waiting for salvation. Not finding it in his useless, sinful longing for Link, Rhett had no choice but to answer for himself. 

He looked at Gregg, steeled his shoulders, and told the truth. “Yes.”


	3. Greed

It was good, what Link had, but it wasn’t good enough anymore. Plain and simple. He wanted and he _wanted_ and it didn’t help to know that he already had so much. It didn’t matter how much he had. He wanted _more_. He had the life he always imagined for himself: a beautiful wife, a beautiful daughter, and a job that paid the bills and allowed them everything they needed. So why wasn’t he satisfied? 

He wanted to tell Rhett, desperately so, but more than that, he didn’t want Rhett to think he was selfish. He didn’t want Rhett to judge him for his wanting, his yearning for something better. What would Rhett think of him, a man who had everything but craved more? The trouble was, Link didn’t even know what that _more_ was. Simply put, it felt like a hole in him, an empty space that nothing could fill. He tried. God, did he try. He thought for sure that Lily would fill it, that his baby daughter would fill in the craters in his chest. But as much as he loved her, as easily as he would give up everything for her, she wasn’t the answer. And Christy was beginning to see it, the unease eating at Link from the inside, and she knew that she couldn’t help him, either. 

It caused her pain, being unable to help, and Link _was_ selfish and he admitted to her there was nothing she could do. And Link was terrified that he was never going to be happy, more scared than he had ever been, and he ran. He called Rhett and asked him to please meet him, please, just for a minute. He got in the car and he left his family behind and it was late at night, when he fled, but Rhett was there to meet him just the same. Rhett was _always_ there just the same. They met at a burger joint in the center of town and they got a table in a corner and a stern look for walking in half an hour before closing. Rhett waited until Link ordered a beer instead of a water to ask what it was he needed. 

“Gimme a minute,” Link replied, not quite ready to admit anything just yet. And Rhett gave him what he asked for. They sat in agreeable silence for a while, one of Rhett’s big hands on the table and the other wrapped around his glass of Coke. Link tried not to stare at them. 

Rhett was patient but he didn’t have all night. He too had a wife, a girl to go home to, and Link was keeping him from that. “Hey man, what is it? Somethin’ eating at you?” 

“Yeah,” Link replied. He fiddled with the mouth of his beer bottle and didn’t say anything else. 

“Well…what is it?” 

Link looked up into Rhett’s face and tried to say what was on his mind: _I’m not happy, I’m scared of not being happy, I’m scared I won’t ever be happy, and I don’t know what will make me happy_. Instead, all that came out was a sigh. He was terrible at admitting when something was wrong. He always had been. He wanted to be stronger than he was, more capable, but he was a new husband and a new father and both titles didn’t seem to fit him quite right. He wanted to be more. 

“Rhett…” Link began. It was easier to speak into his beer than to Rhett, so he did just that. Rhett didn’t protest. “Do you ever feel like…do you ever wonder…?” He swore under his breath and just like that, Rhett’s hand was on top of his where it rested on the table. His hand was warm and heavy and it scared the hell out of Link that Rhett’s touch soothed him so immediately. Maybe it was time to admit to Rhett that the _more_ he wanted was _him_. 

All it took was Rhett’s voice to remind Link that no, no, no, that wasn’t a possibility, it wasn’t happening, and nothing in the world could make Link tell him the truth. It was easy when they were younger, when they kept no secrets from one another, but they were older now and some things were simply better left unsaid. 

“Hey,” Rhett breathed. “What is it? Spit it out. You know you can tell me.” 

_I can’t_. “Rhett, I want more,” Link said, just because admitting one fault was easier than admitting the other. Admitting greed was easier than admitting desire. Still, Rhett looked at him like he had no idea what to say, and Link glanced over his shoulder at the red exit sign. Before he could stand and run for it, Rhett answered with a question. 

“Do you?” he asked. “Really?” When Link looked at him, his eyes were wide. His lips were parted, his fingernails dug into the back of Link’s hand, and as Rhett watched him, Link nodded. 

“Yeah,” he said. “You’re hurting me.”

“What? Oh!” Rhett blinked, distracted by something, and it took him a moment to ease his grip on Link’s hand. “Sorry.” Sheepish, Rhett grinned. There was something beyond that grin, a coyness, excitement, something Link couldn’t place. But it was there, that something, and Rhett leaned closer to Link across the table and asked, “What is it you mean by _more_?” 

Link answered with a question. “Rhett, do you ever feel like we were meant for more than what we’re doing? Like…we were meant to be great?” 

Rhett blinked. He stared at Link, his brow creasing, his mouth turning down. “Link…” he said. “Link, what’re you _talking_ about?” 

“We promised each other, didn’t we?” Link asked. “That we would do something together? Where is that something, Rhett? Doesn’t it eat you up inside? Doesn’t it feel like something’s missing?” 

There was no mistaking the disappointment in Rhett’s face for anything else, but Rhett didn’t give Link the chance to puzzle over it. Instead, he shook his head and forced a smile. It looked pained, like smiling was the last thing he wanted to do. But when Link opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, Rhett sighed. “ _Something’s missing_ ,” he echoed. Bitterness tinged his voice and truth be told, he was starting to scare the hell out of Link. He looked around the quiet restaurant, like Rhett’s behavior was a joke being played on him. But there was no one around to turn to, to question, and when Link looked back to Rhett, he found him sitting as far back in his chair as he could get. 

“Rhett, are you okay?” 

Rhett pinched the bridge of his nose, closed his eyes, and nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I just thought for a second you were gonna…” He seemed to realize what was about to spill out of him was something he didn’t want to say. “Forget it,” he said. He fixed Link with a stern gaze that made him feel frighteningly small. “Explain it to me, Link,” he said. “What is it you want?” 

Link didn’t feel much like talking anymore. He downed the rest of his beer and tried to steer the conversation anywhere else. This felt dangerous, too close to the edge of something, and Link didn’t much like teetering. “Look,” he said. “Forget I said anything. I’m just feelin’ down, I guess, and I was hoping gettin’ outta the house would clear my head. But hey, listen, Christy wants to go on a daytrip sometime soon. She’s bored, I guess, and I told her I would invite you and…”

“Christy?” Rhett said, like for a moment, he had forgotten anyone existed beyond himself and Link. 

“Yeah?”

“You wanna talk about _Christy_ right now?” 

Link had had enough. He slammed his hand down on the table so hard that the silverware jumped as high as Rhett did. Startled, Rhett watched Link with wide eyes as Link lay into him. “Rhett, what’s the matter with you?” he asked. “Why’re you bein’ so freakin’ weird? Did I do something? Is something wrong? I’m sittin’ here complaining about nothing and you seem to have something a lot more important on your mind. What is it, man? Can you tell me?” 

Rhett unraveled the silverware in front of him and picked his napkin to pieces. He had a pile of shredded napkin at his fingertips before he spoke again. “Did you ever think,” he said, “that I might want more, too?” When he flicked his eyes up to meet Link’s, the intensity in his gaze made Link blush before he could stop himself. It wasn’t a look Rhett gave him often. He had only seen it a few times: the last time Rhett lay on top of him in their college dorm and declared himself dead; the time Rhett came back drunk from a party and pressed Link to the wall for a long moment before letting him go without explanation; the time the two of them had nearly drowned in the Cape Fear River and found themselves thankful to be alive. It was a look that scared Link. It was a look that said more than just _I want_. It was a look that said _I want_ you. 

Link had nothing to say. 

“That’s what I thought,” Rhett replied. 

Nothing resolved, nothing changed, they parted ways with a brief, one armed hug and a promise to see one another over the weekend. Rhett got into his car and Link into his, and on the quick drive home, Link talked out loud to talk himself out of turning around and going right to Rhett’s house. 

When Link got home, Christy was up waiting for him. She enveloped him in her arms and asked him what was wrong. He had hoped it wasn’t so obvious that he was hurt, but it was only hurt that Rhett caused him that could be so easily written on his face. She knew without being told that Rhett had punched a hole in him. 

“Christy,” Link said, his head on her chest. “Why is it that I can’t stop wanting?” 

“What do you want, baby?” she asked. “Whatever you want, you can have it.”

“I can’t,” he replied. His daughter was sleeping in her crib and his wife was cradling him in her arms, and there were simply things neither of his girls could give him. “Christy, I wanna be happy.” 

Christy paused in her gentle stroking of his hair. When her hand resumed its mindless motion, she said, “Rhett is keeping you from being happy?” 

Link understood her confusion but couldn’t bring himself to explain. He couldn’t say to his wife _I want him_. He could never, ever look her in the face and tell her he was drowning in his want. Because he loved her, he wanted her, and couldn’t that be enough? It _had_ to be enough. There was no alternative; there was nothing else Link could do but be satisfied. 

“Link?”

“No,” Link finally said. “’S’not him.” He let Christy hold him as he burned with all the things he could never take as his own. He tried his best to acquaint himself with what he had to face: a lifetime of yearning in exchange for his soul. Because if he gave in, if he took what he wanted, it would cost him everything. 

Rhett’s hands on him might have burned as hotly as the desire buried deep in his chest, but Link promised himself as he sank into his wife’s arms.

He would want and he would _want_ but never would he allow himself to have it.


	4. Pride

“We have something good here, Rhett.” A pause. “Don’t we?” 

“Understatement,” Rhett replied. His back was bothering him as he sat at the table in their humble, perfect studio. Still, a sore back wasn’t a high price to pay for the day they had. Hell, for the week they had, the month, the year. They were building momentum, picking up speed, careening down a path full of nothing but blind spots and fog. But they were having a hell of a time doing it. With Link at his side, carving a path for themselves was almost easy. It was easier now than it had ever been, testing the waters and finding what worked and what didn’t. With Link? It didn’t scare Rhett. Not anymore. 

Link shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose and scraped at a scuff in the table with his fingernail. Rhett followed the motion of his hand as Link danced his fingertips up the back of the blooming Chia Lincoln. It was strange, the world they’d built tucked away in Fuquay, but it was theirs. It was perfect, it was wonderful, and it was _theirs_. After years of chasing one another around the drain, letting unhappiness build up until they began to drown in it, finally they were where they wanted to be. 

Rhett was so proud he could burst. 

It took a lot of willpower, more than he even thought he had, to keep from throwing his arms around Link and hugging him tight. Link was just as easily excitable these days and he would have happily returned the embrace, but Rhett held back. He always held back now. The ease of _good morning_ hugs and _congratulations_ hugs and _just because_ hugs was gone; they hadn’t been able to touch each other just because since college. And it scared Rhett, a little, that something that used to come easy no longer did. But to ask Link to touch him would be to admit he wanted it, he craved it, and that something was wrong when they were not touching. He couldn’t admit that. He wouldn’t. 

Despite the things he couldn’t have, Rhett felt closer to satisfied than he had all his life. Yes, they had something good here. Yes, they were still building a life together after all these years. What did it matter if Rhett felt lost every time Link’s elbow brushed his? Rhett had a handle on it. He’d been handling it since he was a kid. 

That wasn’t about to change now, not when they were so close to everything they’d ever wanted. 

“Rhett,” Link said, his dainty fingers splaying through the green fronds on Chia Lincoln. 

“Link?” Rhett replied. 

Link didn’t look at him as he struggled to come up with the right words. “You’re…we’re…this…” He gave his head a quick shake and tried again. “This is amazing. Isn’t it? We’re doing it. We’re actually doing it.” When he finally met Rhett’s eyes, there was excitement burning in every corner of his face. “And we’re _good_ at it,” he said. “Really good at it. We’re amazing, Rhett.” He paused to laugh at himself and amended, “At least, we will be.”

“Nah,” Rhett said. “We already are.” 

Link shot him an appreciative smile and dropped his hand to the table. “We are!” he crowed. “We are! Hell, Rhett, what’s the point of bein’ humble when we know how good this is?”

“This?” Rhett laughed. 

“Us, man!” Link said. He slapped at the table and made Chia Lincoln jump a few inches towards Rhett. Rhett slid him back into place and shook his head ruefully at Link’s exuberance. “The two of us. We’re gonna be the best team the world has ever seen. I dunno how I know that, and I know this isn’t really much, but to me, it’s everything. Everything I ever hoped for. And it’s perfect. I’m so…it’s so…” He gave up and flicked his eyes back up to Rhett’s. For a split second, his eyes slid down Rhett’s face to his lips, but they quickly locked back on the table. Link looked at his hands as he wrung them, fiddling with his gold wedding band. He did it a lot, winding it around and around his finger, slipping it off and slipping it back on. The motion always made Rhett dizzy, but he would never admit that he liked Link’s ring finger with a tan line on it a hell of a lot more than he liked it decorated with a golden band. 

“It’s so what?” Rhett asked. 

“I dunno, man,” Link replied. “Good. Just good.” 

Rhett considered teasing him, riling him up, doing something to get Link to look at him instead of at his restless hands. But he spared Link and he spared himself the sharp look he would earn for poking fun. Instead, he told Link he agreed with him. “It is good,” Rhett agreed. “And so are we.” 

“Hey, you’re s’posed to be the humble one!” Link said. “If you get all cocky on me too, McLaughlin, we won’t be able to stop each other from getting giant heads!”

“You already have a giant head, Neal,” Rhett replied. He reached out to clap Link on the back of his head, something playful, something easy, but he stopped himself just in time. Link watched Rhett’s hand as it dropped back to the table. 

“What were you plannin’ on doing with that hand?” Link asked. 

“I was just gonna hit you,” Rhett replied. 

“Hit me? What for?”

“For bein’ so damn conceited.” 

Link snorted. “Look me in the face and tell me I don’t deserve to feel conceited!” He drew a circle in the air around his face and shot Rhett a wink. “C’mon!” he said when he struck Rhett dumb. “Don’t tell me someone _this_ good looking doesn’t get to be cocky!” He was in a mood, one of the rare times when he let his anxieties leave him. He hardly ever got like this, cocksure and boisterous and loud. Rhett loved him like this, and that love spurred Rhett to fuel Link’s ego. 

“Yeah, man,” Rhett said. “You’re the best looking guy in all of Fuquay.” 

Link waggled his eyebrows and said, “Nuh-uh. In all of North Carolina!” 

And Rhett had no idea what to do with him, Link’s cheeks turning pink as he giggled, his knee bumping Rhett’s under the table. He didn’t quite know what it was that made Link so giddy, so excited, but it proved to be contagious. “Hey, now!” Rhett said. “You can’t be the best looking guy in North Carolina, man! Where does that leave me?” 

Link leaned close and whispered conspiratorially, “You’re the guy who gets to be graced by the presence of the best looking guy in North Carolina every day of your life.” He winked again, his face inches from Rhett’s, and Rhett had to lean back in his chair to keep Link from getting too close. 

“Is this you telling me I’m never gonna escape you and your ego for the rest of my entire _life_?” Rhett asked. Gleeful, Link nodded.

“You’re stuck with me, brother,” he said. He reached out as if to clap Rhett on the shoulder, but he too let his hand drop back down. They did a strange dance, reaching and drawing away. Rhett doubted that Link realized how ingrained it had become in them not to touch if they could help it, not with the camera on and _certainly_ not with the camera off. But the space between them felt too much all of a sudden, and Rhett stood up to make the space greater. Link followed him with his eyes. “What, the threat of bein’ this close to me forever freaking you out or somethin’?” he asked, neck craned to an awkward angle to follow Rhett as he backed away from the table. 

“Something like that,” Rhett replied. Link gave up on tracking his motion and dropped his head back down, his back to Rhett as he stepped away. For a beat, the only sound in the studio was that of Link’s ring clattering to the table and spinning as he played with it. Link’s voice followed. 

“Yanno,” he said. “You’re allowed to be proud of us, too.” 

“I am.”

“I guess that’s not what I mean.” Link’s broad shoulders slumped and Rhett sat down hard in a plastic folding chair in the back of the room. With the extra space between them, Rhett felt like he could breathe again. But he chose not to. Something strange hung in the air between them, thick and uncomfortable, and Rhett didn’t like it. He just had no idea what to say to fix it. How could he fix something that wasn’t actually wrong? 

“What…what didja mean then?”

Link threw his hands up and cast his ring off the table as both palms came back down. The band went skittering across the floor and Link dove after it, missing it as it rolled under the desk in the corner. “Shit!” Link hissed, on his hands and knees on the floor. As he scrabbled for his ring, Rhett watched him struggle and didn’t say a thing. “Yanno,” Link said again, voice muffled as he dove under the desk. “What I mean is, I know I’m pretty full of myself sometimes. Call it compensating for years of feeling inadequate as a kid. But what I’m sayin’ is, you should be full of yourself too. B’cause you’re…” Link found his ring and sat back on his haunches, close to Rhett in the back of the room. He blew dust off his wedding band, his mouth a pretty O, and he shrugged. “I know I don’t say it, but you’re pretty…you know.” Again, he shrugged, and Rhett watched him as he clambered up off the floor. Link looked at him for a minute before slipping his ring back on and plopping down in the chair at his desk. 

Rhett read the look on his face, the look that said _challenge me_. Whatever that meant, Rhett was up for it. “Pretty what?” he asked. And the answering smirk on Link’s face told him it was the exact right thing to say. Whatever they were playing, Link was game to keep playing along.

“Amazing,” Link said. “Talented. Brilliant.” He paused, working his lip between his teeth, and he looked away as he added, “Oh, and good looking.” He laughed as if this was a joke, like this was funny. But it wasn’t. Rhett’s mouth was dry and his palms wet and he dried them on his jeans as he tried to think of something clever to say in reply. 

“Well, thanks, man,” Rhett said instead of saying _so are you_. It wasn’t time for that yet. 

Link shrugged. “No problem,” he said. “Figured if I’m gonna get all sure of myself over here, I might as well make sure you do too.” 

“’Preciate it,” Rhett said. He wanted to say more. He wanted to reach out into the empty space between his knee and Link’s and do something stupid like squeeze his thigh. But it wasn’t time for that yet, either. 

It might not ever be time for that. But in the studio, hidden away in a world that was his and Link’s alone, it was easy to think that someday they might get there. (Whatever _there_ might entail.) But for now, it was enough to be satisfied with all the good they had done. 

It had to be enough.


	5. Gluttony

It wasn’t a special occasion. It was only a Friday like any other Friday, a long day spent filming, but Link was going to treat it like a holiday. Because he was tired and because he felt he deserved it, and when he brought up the idea with Rhett, he didn’t disagree. 

“Let’s do something stupid,” Link had said in the early afternoon. 

“Like what?” Rhett had replied, mouth twisted up into a bemused little smile. 

“Let’s go out, just you and me. Go drinkin’ or something. Whaddya say?” 

Rhett had only arched an eyebrow and thought about it for a moment before agreeing. And now, they sat elbow to elbow at a bar, three beers deep, and Link’s head was beginning to ring. He felt warm and fuzzy around the edges, sitting close to Rhett as if the situation called for it. The bar was almost empty and they had all the space in the world around them to create between their knees. But they didn’t. It had been a long day, after all, and the contact made Link feel good. He wasn’t about to break it now. 

The show had been good to them lately. Hell, _life_ had been good to them lately. Gone were childish insecurities and worries; they couldn’t leave each other at this point even if they tried. They were tied together by an empire, one they kept building day by day, and they weren’t slowing down anytime soon. With the safety net of their kingdom beneath them, the easy closeness they had lost in the beginning began to creep back bit by bit. They touched: they brushed elbows, they touched hands, they leaned on one another and they embraced. It wasn’t until they started to find every excuse to touch each other that Link realized how much he had missed it in every previous year. The two of them had spent the better part of their late twenties pretending the space they left between one another was normal, but now that they were thirty-five and less vulnerable, the space went away. 

Link didn’t know yet if it scared him or elated him. 

He downed his beer and grabbed Rhett’s, to tease him and to test him more than anything. Rhett only watched him with half lidded eyes as he took a long sip and set it back down. “Thanks,” he said. In reply, Rhett scooped up the bottle and took a swig of his own. Like a challenge. Like a dare. _You don’t scare me_ , the look in Rhett’s eyes said. _Not anymore_. And there it was. They could share drinks in easy silence, even if Link left a ring of peanut butter peppermint lip balm around the rim of the bottle. Rhett didn’t mind. Not anymore. And God, Link had no idea what to do with that. 

The companionable silence went away and was replaced with something thicker. It was strange and electric, something Link had felt a million times before. Something that only Rhett could make him feel. It was like they were bound together, wrist to wrist, hip to hip, and a current was run straight through them. One glance at Rhett and Link knew he felt it too. Whatever it was, something had to give before the sparks in Link’s belly ignited into flame. 

Rhett made the first move. He cleared his throat, he downed his beer, and he said, “Hey, I gotta get some fresh air. Wanna come with me?” 

Link did. 

They hopped off their stools and Rhett asked the bartender to keep their tab open. “We’ll be right back,” he said. And the bartender grinned like he knew exactly where they were going. Link had half a mind to ask him; he had no goddamn idea himself. Still, he followed Rhett out of the bar and onto the street. It wasn’t a particularly warm night, a light breeze tossing Link’s hair over his eyes, and he curled his fingers around his elbows and hugged himself to keep from shivering. He wasn’t quite drunk, but the night air and Rhett’s solid presence at his side took him the rest of the way there. When he looked up at Rhett to ask him where this interlude was taking them, Rhett wrapped one hand around Link’s wrist and pulled. 

Link didn’t protest until Rhett had him pinned to the brick wall of an alley. “Rhett, what the hell are you doing?” he asked. Instead of giving him an answer, Rhett glanced down at his mouth. It was a simple glance, fleeting, and Rhett looked back up into his eyes like the look never happened. But it did. And Link wasn’t stupid; he knew what that look meant. Rhett was hungry for him. 

When Link gulped, Rhett’s eyes dipped to follow the motion of his Adam’s apple. It had been years since Link had seen such a predatory look in Rhett’s eyes. But as anxious as it made him, the heat in Rhett’s gaze, he wasn’t about to back down. Whatever was going on, Link was going to face it. 

“You want something?” Link said. He meant to say it like an offhand statement, casual, but his voice cracked and betrayed him. Rhett smiled. 

“Yeah,” Rhett replied. Had he always been able to make his voice dip that low? He leaned in close, keeping Link pinned against the wall with one hand on each shoulder. 

“Uh,” Link said smartly. “What…what is it?” 

Rhett was drunker than Link had thought. There was no other explanation for what he did next. He smirked, his eyes dancing in the orange light cast by streetlamps beyond the alley. He closed the space between Link and himself. And slowly (giving Link all the time in the world to back away, to call it off, to call his bluff), he pressed his lips to Link’s. 

It was the sort of kiss Link hadn’t received since high school. It was a kiss that said _I want to devour you_. It was a kiss that promised Link _I won’t stop until I’ve gotten everything I wanted_. He used to get kissed like that, back when he couldn’t do much more with a girl than kiss her until his lips felt bruised and hot. It had been a long time since Link felt the ensuing weakness that followed in his knees and in his head. He staggered under the weight of Rhett’s kiss and without a word, Rhett caught him. He swept Link up in strong arms, holding Link flush against his body until he squeaked in pain. 

Rhett didn’t apologize. He was hungry, and it was Link he wanted. And Link was going to hand himself over and let himself get consumed. 

Rhett tasted terrible, like beer and a long day spent eating God knew what on camera. His breath was hot as it washed over Link’s face and despite the tang of Rhett’s tongue, Link fell into him. He had yearned for this, for Rhett’s hungry hands all over him, for Rhett’s mouth on his. It was easy to kiss Rhett back, like he had been waiting for exactly this all his life. And when Link kissed him hard, teeth closing on Rhett’s lip, Rhett groaned. 

The sound of his voice went straight to Link’s head. He surged up on his toes and wove his hands into Rhett’s hair to drag him down, pulling hard and eliciting sweet, desperate moans. Rhett was drunk but hell, the simple way his body came together with Link’s made Link drunker. If Rhett wasn’t going to stop until he’d had his fill, neither was Link. He met the challenge issued by Rhett’s open mouth and countered it with one of his own: _devour me_. 

Rhett was not one to back down from a challenge. _I will_ , his voracious lips said. And Link let Rhett keep the control he had taken by force. It was the least that Link could do for the gift of Rhett’s hands sliding down his hips. Link wanted, and he wanted, and he _ached_ for wanting, and Rhett gave a wordless cry as Link slipped one hand between their bodies. 

The two of them were always all or nothing. 

The dizziness in the back of Link’s head didn’t get any better as Rhett finally broke the frantic string of kisses to nip and lick at his throat. Link tipped his head back and gulped fresh air. It did nothing to help. He was a goner. This meant something; whether it meant the loss of something or gaining something new, Link didn’t want to know. Not now. Now, all he wanted was for Rhett to kiss him and touch him and whisper his name until the end of the damn world. He could do that, couldn’t he? They had time for that? 

Rhett slipped a hand into the waistband of Link’s jeans and all thought went away. Link threw his head back so hard it hit the brick wall behind him with a thunk; when he saw stars, it only added to the fuzziness creeping in from all sides. He didn’t mind. A concussion and a cracked skull were a small price to pay for the freedom that came with Rhett’s admission of want. 

Link whimpered as Rhett bit down on the side of his throat and Rhett breathed, “You’re okay.” The promise was what dragged Link back into his own head. Back where this was real, this was terrible, and they were two married men rocking desperately into each other’s open hands. This was Rhett, and this was Link, and this was _real_. And it couldn’t be. 

“Rhett, God, hey,” Link babbled, his hands on Rhett’s shoulders. “Rhett, stop, we…we can’t…”

“Stop?” Rhett asked into the hollow of his throat. “Why would I stop when all my life I’ve wanted…?” He trailed off and let the heat of his mouth on Link’s collarbone finish the thought for him. 

“Rhett, stop.” Link was stern as he could be with a tongue twisted by alcohol, and Rhett didn’t hesitate to obey. He froze with his teeth on Link’s skin and he was still and obedient as Link placed a hand on the back of his neck and guided him back. Standing up straight in the middle of a dark alley, Rhett’s dark eyes bored into Link. He didn’t look angry. He didn’t look surprised. The only thing Link could read on his face was the same insatiable, horrifying hunger Rhett had carried with him all night. Link swiped at his mouth with the back of his hand and said again, “Stop.” 

“I did,” Rhett replied. 

“Yeah,” Link agreed. “We can’t.”

“We can’t?” Rhett asked. 

“Rhett, we…”

“You want this.” Rhett paused, too far from Link, one hand braced on the wall beside Link’s head. “You want me.”

There was no point in lying. All Rhett would have to do is look down to know. “Yes.”

“Then we can.” When Rhett leaned back in, Link let him. “I’ve always dreamed of my mouth on you…” As his teeth grazed Link’s earlobe, he lost the one and only shred of decorum he had left. Link dug his fingers into Rhett’s shoulders until he felt Rhett smirk into his skin. “Can we?” Rhett asked. 

As ravenous as Rhett was, so was Link. He had wanted, too. He had _always_ wanted. And he wasn’t about to stop this now, not when he _burned_ with want. 

Not when he could die for wanting. 

Link leaned his head back and gave Rhett access to a vast expanse of skin. “We can.”


	6. Lust

It was a late night at the office. It was a special project, a faraway site, a hotel for the night. It was a _see you soon, honey_ and an _I love you, baby_ , and Rhett had Link all to himself. It was lying to their wives, to their children, but it was Link under Rhett’s hands, and that was all Rhett wanted. Now that he had tasted Link’s skin, it was never enough to sit beside him at a desk and pretend he wanted nothing more. Link was warm, and wanting, and receptive, and every time Rhett touched him, Link heaved a sigh. What could be better than that? 

It was months of hiding, a year of it, more. It was going away together and coming back well practiced in the art of concealing bruised necks with powder and popped collars. It was a heavy, sick feeling in the pit of Rhett’s stomach that surged upwards every time Link moaned and reminded Rhett how far he was from his wife. But more than sin, but more than lust, it was years of denial, of pretending, of keeping their distance. And hell if Rhett wasn’t going to make up for lost time. 

He devoured Link in hotel room after hotel room, bathroom stall after bathroom stall. They crashed together after work, at work, once all the crew had gone home. They fit together so perfectly it seemed impossible that it had taken them this long. Link, at the beginning, had woken up Rhett in the middle of the night with tears in his eyes, mourning the lost years behind them. What could Rhett have done besides drag Link into his arms and kiss that pain away? It had taken them a hell of a lot of time, but they were there now. 

Rhett wasn’t going to give it up. 

God, he knew it was wrong, but God, he didn’t care. He couldn’t care about anything, not with Link writhing beneath him. Link was insatiable; he pawed at Rhett whenever the urge struck him, regardless of who was there to see. The carelessness of his touch drove Rhett wild, and Link knew it. The smirk Link shot Rhett’s way every time he groped Rhett under their shared desk was a knife in his gut. And Link loved it. He loved to tease, to make Rhett go red under the curious eyes of their crew, of their friends, of their wives. 

And Rhett loved to make him pay for it later. 

Rhett called his wife from the studio loft one Friday night after midnight to tell her, “I’m sorry, but we have so much to do. We’re just gonna sleep here tonight and I’ll see you tomorrow. Okay?”

“Okay, Rhett,” Jessie sighed. It was the fourth time in two weeks Rhett had called to tell her the same thing, the fourth time he had lied through his teeth with Link’s sunk into the side of his throat. It never got easier, but then again, neither did letting go of Link when real life came scratching at the door. Rhett tended to ignore the call of anything that wasn’t Link and his hands and his mouth. 

It was hell, the balancing act, but for Link, Rhett was prepared to balance on the edge of a knife until he slipped off and let it kill him. 

Before Rhett was off the phone, Link was on his knees, beautiful and hungry in the act of freeing Rhett from his jeans. He licked at his lips as he fought with Rhett’s zipper, his hands rough and careless. Rhett liked him like this, heedless and desperate. Rhett liked him even more as he mewled at the slightest touch of Rhett’s hand in his hair. When Rhett pulled, Link let out a moan that could have turned the most righteous man to a life of sin. 

Link took Rhett into his mouth and bore down on his bare thighs with sharp fingernails. Rhett always knew Link was sharp, but it wasn’t until Link got his hands on him that he knew in how many ways. As Link worked Rhett with a skillful tongue, Rhett yanked ruthlessly at the silky hair between his fingers. He tried not to think, not to dwell, but he caught himself more often than he would ever admit to Link. _I might have lived and died not knowing how it would feel to hold your hair as you dropped to your knees for me_. It hurt to think, more than it hurt to know all the wrong they had done. Rhett twisted his hand up in Link’s hair to elicit a whimper that would shut off the nagging voice in his head. 

Link’s voice had always served to soothe Rhett, and this was no different. 

Pleasure rolled its way up Rhett’s spine and as he let out a moan of his own, Link pulled back. His eyes were dark and his lips parted, shining with spit, rosy pink. “Don’t come yet,” Link ordered. “I’m not done with you.” 

“No?” Rhett asked. 

“No.” God, the lust in Link’s eyes was going to kill Rhett. The same fire that had always burned inside Link, the slow burning desire to never stop until he got exactly what he wanted, was directed straight at Rhett as he stood backed up against a wall. “No, I want you to fuck me.” 

Every time Link said something stupid and reckless like that, it felt like the first time. Rhett shivered as Link looked up at him, both hands planted on Rhett’s thighs. And every damn time Link looked at him through long eyelashes and bedroom eyes, Rhett was gone. He was somewhere else, far away, but he always took Link with him. 

Rhett pulled up his jeans, pulled Link to his feet, and made short work of ripping Link from his clothes. Only when Link stood in the middle of the loft in his underwear was Rhett anything close to satisfied. He got a little closer once he had Link sprawled out beneath him on the bed. He kissed his way across Link’s chest with Link’s hands sliding down the slope of his spine. It was a familiar dance, one they had choreographed over months of nights like this. It had scared the hell out of Rhett in the beginning, just how perfectly they fit together. Now, it didn’t worry him anymore. They fit together in every other aspect of their lives. Why the hell shouldn’t they be allowed to fit like this too? 

“Get your clothes off,” Link ordered as Rhett nuzzled into the hollow of his throat. “I wanna see you.” 

Rhett followed Link’s command. He threw his shirt over his head and off the side of the bed, chasing it with his jeans. Link’s hands were back on him the moment he slipped out of his underwear. As practiced Link was with his mouth, he was even better with his hands. He worked old knots from Rhett’s back without even trying; he eased the pain that ran down the length of Rhett’s spine as if he had known exactly how all his life. And when he was done, his fingers found other places to explore. Rhett arched his back into every touch, every whisper of skin on skin. Wherever Link went, he followed. He ached deep in his guts, deep in the heat between his legs, and Link worked to ease that ache just like any other. 

Deft and icy cold fingers explored the aching planes of Rhett’s body as Rhett dipped his mouth lower and lower along Link’s. Link sighed and rolled his hips as Rhett pulled at the waistband of his underwear with his teeth. God, it had scared Rhett, just to learn how easy this was, how short a leap it was from friends to something like lovers. It didn’t scare him now. Not anymore. 

Link sighed his name and chilled him to the bone. Once Link was naked, purring and clawing underneath Rhett’s hips, Rhett made a point to kiss him hard on the lips. They would more often than not forget to kiss; they would forego silly things like whispering the truth and saying, _I love you_. More often than not they wouldn’t talk about this at all. They would fuck, they would put their clothes back on, they would go home to their families, and they would paw at each other like animals until they did it all again. 

Now, Rhett knew that was something to be afraid of. But with Link’s hand on his cock and Link’s voice in his ear, it was hard to pay any mind to the part of his brain that told him _you’re doing wrong by him_. It was _impossible_ once Link husked, “Take me, Rhett. Take me, I’m yours.” 

And Rhett did. 

In a rare moment of weakness, Rhett pulled Link towards him. He guided him until Link wrapped his long legs around Rhett and crossed his ankles at the small of Rhett’s back. In a rare moment of mercy, Link didn’t scold him for the desire to be face to face. He simply looked at Rhett, face open, his lip caught between his teeth and his hair over his eyes. Rhett didn’t mean to, but he stared. And the moment the Link he knew came back with a biting remark- “Stop lookin’ at me like that, Rhett, you don’t hafta make it _romantic_ or nothin’…”- Rhett did what was asked of him. He took Link by the hips and took exactly what Link wanted him to take. He didn’t make it slow; he didn’t go easy. He tried to be ruthless as he buried himself deep inside Link, and was rewarded with the perfect view of Link’s throat as he threw his head back and moaned. 

“That’s it,” Link sighed. “Oh, that’s it.” He had one hand in his own hair and the other twitching on Rhett’s hip, his fingers opening and closing to the motion of Rhett as he moved. And if Rhett didn’t know any better, he would do something very stupid and tell Link how pretty he looked just like this. They never said things like that, but God, did Rhett want to. Link deserved to hear every word. But Link didn’t want that; he didn’t want tenderness or sweetness. He wanted to be well fucked and left alone. If that was all Rhett could get, he was going to take it. 

Rhett wrapped his fingers around Link’s reddened cock and searched for the reaction that would turn his stomach and help him soar. When Link swore and chased the oath with Rhett’s name, Rhett bit down hard on his tongue to keep from spilling hidden truths. _I love you, I love you, can’t you see how much I love you?_ It was only the knowledge that Link would run at the first sign of anything more than this that kept Rhett quiet. He couldn’t lose this. He couldn’t lose Link. 

“Fuck, fuck, don’t stop,” Link whined. “Right there, right there.” The flushed skin of his throat was the prettiest thing Rhett had ever seen, the veins thrumming just under his skin the most perfect. But Link didn’t like being told he was pretty; Link hated to be told he was perfect. So Rhett settled for placing a hand on the hot skin of Link’s throat and watching pleasure flash across Link’s face. 

“You like that?” Rhett growled, because if he didn’t say something filthy, he was going to say _you’re everything_. Link nodded, one hand wrapping loosely around Rhett’s wrist, guiding him to squeeze. And when he did, tears glistened in Link’s eyes. It was Rhett who had made the first move, and it was Rhett who should have known starting a game with Link would be to keep on losing. But Rhett had made his choices, and Rhett could live with them or he could die with them. With Link bucking up into both hands Rhett had on him, it was an easy choice to make. 

Link’s pulse raced under the hand Rhett had on his throat, and Rhett didn’t want to come like this, depriving Link of anything. But the moment he eased up on Link’s throat, Link whined, his hand fluttering over Rhett’s. “Keep going,” Link rasped. “C’mon.” 

Rhett bore down and Link tried and failed to gasp aloud. It was the image of Link, so fragile and small as Rhett held his life in one hand, that began to tip Rhett over the edge. And as he pumped into Link, thoughtless and deep, Link’s cheeks turned pink and his eyes began to close. Only then did Rhett let go. Link hissed in a breath and clung to Rhett’s hand as he came, spilling hotly deep inside Link, and Link’s climax followed a moment after. 

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Link sighed, and whatever he was going to say next was cut off as Rhett pulled out and made him gasp and whimper instead. Tired and lightheaded and sore, Rhett collapsed on top of Link, eliciting a soft _oof_ of pain. 

“Ow, get off,” Link said. Heedless of the sticky mess between them, Rhett, for once, didn’t do as he was told. He wanted to hold Link, that was all, and if he couldn’t, he would settle for holding Link down. The moment he got up, Link would be on his feet in search of his clothes, and Rhett wasn’t ready for that just yet. “Rhett, you’re hurting me.” 

_You’re hurting me too_. “Good,” Rhett replied. 

Link’s hands scrabbled uselessly at Rhett’s shoulders, and Link followed the escape attempt with a different kind of sigh. “Rhett,” he said. “Rhett, you have to get off me.” 

“Why?”

“What’s your plan, man? You wanna lie here forever and get glued together with come?”

“Yes.”

Finally, Link seemed to realize something was wrong. “Rhett?” he asked. “Hey, are you okay?” And it was unlike Link to care in moments like this, come cooling on his skin, but Rhett accepted it. 

“Not really,” he admitted. 

“Wanna…uh.” Link cleared his throat, voice scratchy from the force of Rhett’s hand. “Wanna talk about it?” 

Rhett thought about it for a moment. He could see it unfold without having to live it: he would admit he was falling in love, and Link would be horrified. Link would run away, and Link would hide, and Rhett would face losing him for all the wrong he had done. Link would be afraid, and Rhett tended to lose sight of him once he had it in his mind that he had to be scared. Rhett could tell the truth. But it wasn’t worth the fear of loss. 

Not yet. 

“No,” Rhett said. He turned his head, burrowed into the damp hollow of Link’s throat, and kissed him there. The gesture was another rare show of Rhett’s fragility, but Link didn’t admonish him for it. Instead, he took Rhett entirely by surprise. He began to stroke at his hair, unsure and then steady, soft and careful. 

“That’s okay,” Link said. “When…when you do. I’ll be here.” 

Lust fading and fear creeping in, there was nothing Rhett could say to a lie like that. So he said nothing at all.


	7. Wrath

Rhett was pulling away. Link was losing him. They had something good, something _great_ , and Rhett behaved like a man about to give it all up. Not even the frantic, pleading kisses Link pressed to Rhett’s skin as they made love could pull Rhett back to him. Link had no idea where he was going, but he had never been more scared in his entire life than he was under Rhett’s calculating, loveless eyes. 

He didn’t know how to ask the only question he wanted the answer to: _do you love me still?_ The thought of Rhett looking back at him and saying no kept him from trying. They had something good, and then they simply didn’t. No matter how hard Link tried to keep fear from creeping in, it always came back to gnaw at his insides, and with it came doubt. 

_He knows I’ve fallen in love with him_ , Link panicked. _He knows, he’s always known, and the way he looks at me is him telling me to stop_. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. They were sinners, plain and simple, but at least they sinned together. If one of them broke, if one of them fell apart and told the truth, they would both be lost. It was the fear of losing not just Rhett, but everything, that ultimately shut Link’s mouth for him. 

Until Rhett took a wrong turn driving Link home and told him a different truth. “We can’t keep doing this,” he said. 

“Take me home,” Link replied. 

“Not until we talk about this,” Rhett said, white-knuckled hands on the steering wheel. He cut a glance Link’s way that burned, and Link slunk low in his seat. 

“What is there to talk about?” Link asked. He knew, of course he knew; this was Rhett getting ready to say goodbye. If Link allowed it, this would be Rhett telling him all of it was over. Link reached blindly for the handle of the car door as if to leap from the moving car, and Rhett snapped his name to reel him back in. “What? There’s nothin’ to talk about, Rhett. Nothin’. You wanna stop doing this? Fine. But there’s no reason to talk about it.” Link knew he was being mean, but his heart hurt and he couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of him. “What, did your guilty conscience finally catch up to you?” 

Without looking, he could feel Rhett’s eyes on him. 

“You’re bein’ a real jerk, you know that?” Rhett replied. And then, “Why’re you doing this to me?” He had no right to sound so wounded, so desperately wronged, as if all the wrongdoing was Link’s and his alone. 

“Why’m _I_ doing this to _you_?” Link snapped. “I’m not the one who started this, Rhett, unless you’ve forgotten. You are. And if you wanna quit, then quit. But don’t pretend any of this is _my_ fault.” 

Rhett turned the wheel so sharply Link smacked his head on the window. He swore and rubbed at his temple with one hand as Rhett took a turn towards the setting sun. 

“You’re such a _fucking_ jerk,” Rhett said. When the oath startled Link into looking up at Rhett, he found him with his jaw set tight and his hands tighter. Link was under his skin. And Link was angry; he was furious. So he burrowed in deeper. 

“Yeah, well, at least I know what I want,” he said. “You don’t know from one night to the next whether you can’t stand the sight of me or if you _love_ me.” Once he spat it out there was no taking it back, and he turned away as Rhett looked sharply at him. 

“Is that what you think?” Rhett asked. “Is that _really_ what you think? Tell me the truth, Link, is that what you think of me? After all these fucking years, _that’s_ what you think of me?” He was yelling, his voice rising to a roar. And it had been years since Link had heard him yell like this, years since Link had listened to him fight like an animal. It made the ache in his chest worse, but he didn’t tell Rhett so. Instead, he did what he did best. He fought back. 

“Yanno what?” Link asked. “Screw you, man. You’re the one who started this, and you don’t even have the guts to end it. Don’t pretend that you’re anything but _exactly_ what I think you are. You wanted more from me, and you got it, and you don’t know what to do with it. Is that right? Tell me, Rhett, because I’m drownin’ here, and you’re not doin’ anything to help.” 

“Link,” Rhett sighed, like the fight was over, like he was drained, but Link wasn’t going to let so much hurt go away so easily. 

“Why did you have to kiss me, man?” Link asked. “What the hell were you _thinking_? We had it so good, and you had to want more, and you had to ruin everything.”

“Me?!” Rhett cried. “You think _I_ ruined everything? You’re the one who won’t even _look_ at me once we’re done. You get dressed and walk away awfully fast for someone who thinks I’m the problem here.” 

“Isn’t that what you want?” Link asked. “A quick fuck and a _seeya later_? Stop me if I’m wrong, Rhett, but you never _once_ told me you wanted anything different.”

“Link, how could you even for a _minute_ think…?”

“Take me home,” Link said. “Now.” 

Rhett looked at him, pink-cheeked and shaky, a suffering shadow of the man that Link was stupid enough to fall in love with. He was going to pay dearly for it; he was going to lose his other half for it. And what was the point? What was the _point_ of loving him so much if it was going to end in losing him? Link didn’t mean to, but when Rhett tried to reason with him, he roared. 

“Now!” 

Rhett turned the car around and guided them back towards home. 

He was quiet only for a minute before telling Link, “If I had known this is how it’d go, I can promise you I never woulda kissed you.” The regret in his voice was so genuine that for a moment, Link almost lost it. He almost let his fury fade. But he ached and there was nothing he could do to fight it except to fight against the person who made him feel that way. 

“Good to know this meant a goddamn thing to you,” Link snapped in reply. Judging by the sound Rhett made, like the simple statement of practiced petulance was a punch to the gut, Rhett hurt just as badly as he did. Knowing that didn’t make Link feel any better. 

“Goddammit, Link, I really hate you sometimes.” 

“Good,” Link said. “That makes two of us.” It was the admission of mutual hatred for the bitter echo Link had let himself become that made Rhett slam on the brakes. He pulled the car into an empty lot, cut the wheel too hard, and smoked the tires as the car screamed to a stop. And the moment Link opened his mouth to shout at him, Rhett covered his mouth with his own. 

Despite the pain and the anger burning in his veins, Link kissed him back. Because he loved him, he had always loved him, he would _always_ love him. It was a bruising kiss, one meant to hurt, and Link deserved it. He kissed back with equal ferocity. They lunged at one another across the center console, seatbelts biting into their throats, hands all over each other. It was a dirty kiss, Rhett’s teeth on Link’s lips, but God, was it good. And that was the crux of it, wasn’t it? No matter how much it hurt, it was always painfully, wonderfully _good_. 

Rhett growled against his lips and gave him the bruises he had earned. And Link didn’t pull away when he tasted something on Rhett’s lips that Rhett didn’t have to say out loud: this kiss meant _goodbye_. After this, they would go home to their wives. After this, they would explain away the redness of their battered mouths and they would never talk about it again. After this, it would be over. The thought of an end to the pain in Link’s chest should have elated him. Instead, his throat constricted as he tried to fathom taking a step backwards. How could he sit next to Rhett for the rest of his life and pretend he didn’t know what Rhett’s tongue tasted like? How would he be able to keep from reaching out, from touching, from caressing when no one was looking? It was an impossibility that Link didn’t want to fight against just yet. 

_I hate you for doing this to us_ , Link didn’t say. 

_I’m never going to forgive you_ , Rhett didn’t reply. 

When Rhett pulled back, it was all Link could do to keep from attacking, from hitting him, from launching at him and causing a fraction of the pain he felt. But Rhett’s breath washed across his face and Link had to admit the truth: he was never going to recover from knowing how it felt to have Rhett’s hands on him. 

Clinging to Rhett, one hand in his hair and the other tangled up in the front of his T-shirt, Link bit at Rhett’s lip and pulled away to say, “Take me home.” 

Rhett kept a hand on his thigh all the way home and Link covered that hand with his own. They had ruined each other, hadn’t they? God, to have done so much wrong, to carry so much sin, and to have nothing to show for it…Link let a storm cloud of anger roll over him as Rhett wiped at wet eyes at his side. 

“Are you _crying_?” Link asked. 

Rhett laughed a tiny, hollow laugh. “Yeah,” he grunted. 

“Why?”

“Because I dunno how to fix this.” He pulled into Link’s driveway and it was too late to try. For now, there was no fixing anything. It was over. 

Link looked into Rhett’s bloodshot eyes and told him, “I hate…”

“Me?” Rhett guessed bitterly. 

“No,” Link snapped. There were lights on in his house and his family waited for him, but Rhett’s hand was heavy on his thigh and he wasn’t going anywhere just yet. He didn’t know how to say it; he had no idea how to voice the betrayal he felt without it killing Rhett. They had danced around each other all their lives, touching down on _almosts_ and _nearly theres_. And it was going to destroy them, wasn’t it, to know that all of that wanting and yearning and love would end in this? 

Link shook his head and Rhett told him, “I need you to tell me what you’re thinking.” 

“I hate that it took us too long,” Link punched out. “And that we waited until it was too late.”

“It’s too late?” Rhett asked. 

“Yeah. God, yes, don’t you see that?”

“Link, there’s always…”

“No, there isn’t.” With one hand on the door and the other covering Rhett’s, Link hovered in purgatory. He knew where he should be and where he wanted to be, and it wasn’t fair that it was too different places. How the hell was he supposed to choose?

“Fine,” Rhett sighed. He disentangled his hand from Link’s and wiped at his eyes, dabbing at his running nose. “ _Fine_. Go on, then. Get out. You’re home.”

_You’re my home._

Link didn’t say that. Of course he didn’t. Because Rhett hated this; Rhett hated him. And if it was too late to save them, it was too late to say anything at all. 

When Link climbed out of the car, Rhett leaned over to get a good look at him. “Link, I…”

“Don’t,” Link said. 

“I’m sorry,” he said anyway. 

Link wanted to say something cruel; he wanted to walk away with the last word. But Rhett was…Rhett was his best friend. Hell, Rhett was his other half. So instead of being terrible, instead of injecting wrath into his voice, he let Rhett know the truth. “I’m sorry too,” he said. It was the next best thing to _I love you_ and Rhett knew it. 

Even so, it hurt more than it ever should have to close the door and walk away. 

Link would never be any good at sinning.


End file.
